


non-identical sugar and salt jars are paramount, dammit

by dickpuncher420, sprinklyzucchini



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Coversion Day, Fluff, M/M, Zukka Week 2k15, a lot of baking failures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4528770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickpuncher420/pseuds/dickpuncher420, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprinklyzucchini/pseuds/sprinklyzucchini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Sokka's birthday, and Zuko has underestimated his ability to fuck up in the kitchen. Whoops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	non-identical sugar and salt jars are paramount, dammit

**Author's Note:**

> For Zukkaweek's Thursday - Coversion: in which they hide something from each other 
> 
> (the hiding thing lasts only like 15 minutes bc Zuko's a terrible liar bye)

Zuko awoke with a mouthful of hair and the insistent shrieking of the alarm clock. The weight on his chest stirred and let out a pitiful moan, and Zuko blinked down at Sokka, his lips pulling into a smile as Sokka burrowed deeper into the covers, snuffling and pressing his face into Zuko’s shirt.

“Urrgghh,” he groaned. Zuko snorted and reached over to shut off the alarm, and Sokka let out a drawn out “Nooooo,” as he was jostled, digging his fingers into Zuko’s midriff.

“Sokka, get off,” Zuko said, attempting to wriggle out of Sokka’s grasp, but Sokka just held on tighter—dammit, for such a lanky guy, he was surprisingly strong—and pulled him back down with a whine that was entirely too cute for his own good. Zuko huffed and rolled his eyes, determinedly quashing the flutter in his stomach.

“You’re gonna be late for work,” he tried, and he thought that maaaybe that woke Sokka up a bit, but then Sokka just sagged back onto Zuko’s chest. Sigh.

“Sokkaaaaa,” Zuko groaned, trying to shove him off, but Sokka didn’t budge.

“Zukooo,” he moaned in return, his voice muffled against Zuko’s chest.

Zuko really didn’t want to use this against him, but he really needed to get Sokka out of bed.

“Come on, Sokka. It’s your birthday, get up.” Zuko pushed against Sokka’s bare shoulders, and he finally rolled off of Zuko with a sigh and a pout that Zuko really wanted to kiss.

_No. Focus. Now is not the time to make out with your boyfriend. You’re trying to get him out of the house, remember? Focus, dammit._

Sokka flopped onto the mattress beside Zuko, scrubbing his hands over his face. His voice was rough with sleep, “Ugh, big deal. I don’t even get the day off of work, so who cares? Arrghh damn Piandao and—“ Zuko was unable to decipher the rest of what Sokka was saying because it was mostly angry grunting and muttering.

Zuko rolled onto his side, an idea blooming in his mind. He traced his fingers up Sokka’s side and leaned over so that his lips were nearly brushing the shell of his ear.

“You could just stay in bed with me… I could give you your birthday present,” he hummed, stroking his hand up Sokka’s chest.

Sokka immediately perked up, his eyes widening. “Really?”

“No.” Zuko said, and abruptly pulled away, jumping off the bed. Sokka jerked upright, his features arranging themselves into the world’s most pissed off cat face.“Zuko, you fucking dick!”

Zuko grinned and looked down at Sokka, trying to ignore how much he would actually like to do what he’d just suggested, especially when Sokka was half-naked and with a head full of almost-but-not-quite sex hair…

_Jesus, Zuko. No. Remember the plan. Stick to the plan._

Zuko shook himself mentally. Not the time.

“Go take a cold shower, you idiot. Unless you want to show up at work with morning wood,” he teased ( _he’s a kettle, you’re the pot._ )

Sokka flushed and climbed out of bed, grumbling, “Don’t you have work, asshole?”

 _Ummmm._ Zuko froze, his eyes widening, but apparently it was a rhetorical question, because Sokka stalked out of the room without waiting for an answer.

Zuko blew out a puff of air and ran his fingers through his hair, wincing as he tugged out the knots. Shit. He had his work cut out for him.

He padded into the kitchen and turned on the lights, the sound of water running in the bathroom a quiet background, and set about making coffee. He hated coffee, hated the bitter taste and the unpleasant jitteriness that came after, but it was one of the only things he was able to make, and his boyfriend basically needed coffee in order to function like a normal human being in the mornings.

Zuko checked the time on the microwave, aaand yep, Sokka was likely going to be late for work. He sighed and pulled out a portable mug, and was in the process of pouring the coffee when Sokka stepped into the room, pulling a t-shirt over his head, and _no Zuko, no gawking, you’re gonna pour scalding coffee all over yourself and then you’ll see what ogling your boyfriend gets you._

“Mmm, Zuko, you’re the best boyfriend ever,” Sokka said, wrapping his arms around Zuko from behind and burying his nose into Zuko’s neck.

Ah gods, like that didn’t make him want to melt into the body behind him and possibly dirty up the counter. But his (damnable) self-control won out and instead, he answered, “You’re late.”

“No I’m not,” Sokka drawled. Then, “Oh, FUCK!” Wordlessly, Zuko handed him the coffee mug, and then leaned back against the counter to watch as Sokka frantically rushed around the apartment to collect his things.

“’KayZukoloveyoubyeseeyouthisafternoon,” he said, breezing by to press a quick kiss to Zuko’s lips, and then he was out the door, the smell of his shampoo lingering in the air.

Zuko slumped against the counter, all the tension leaving his body. Siiigh. So he’d managed to get Sokka out of the apartment without arousing suspicion; check. Now came the slightly difficult part. And by slightly difficult, he meant trying-to-divert-lightning difficult.

_Come on, man. NOT the time for your pessimism._

He fetched his laptop from the bedroom, pulling on a pair of pants as he went, and then opened up the recipe that must have been sitting in his browser for weeks at least.

Okay, okay. He skimmed the list of ingredients, which he’d checked and double checked the week before, but you could never be too careful, right?

You can do this, Zuko. You can do this. Just…follow the instructions and you’ll be fine. It can’t be that hard.

Mildly reassured, he began to collect the ingredients that he’d hidden around the kitchen where Sokka wouldn’t find them, because Sokka was way too observant for his own good and would probably have guessed that something was off if he found freaking cocoa powder lying around.

Fuck, he would’ve practiced first, but he couldn’t do it in their apartment because it was meant to be a surprise, or in anyone else’s because he liked to be alone when doing something potentially horrifically embarrassing.

Ahem, anyways. The first step was to preheat the oven, which turned out to be a struggle in and of itself because Zuko had no fucking clue how to use the damn thing. Googling the make and model of the oven yielded poor results, as did banging his head in frustration against the oven door. _Why in the everloving fuck did ever Sokka want this fancy, button-riddled thing anyway?_

In the end, it was the ever-faithful randomly-press-buttons-until-something-seems-to-work technique that won out, and Zuko stood back with a weary sigh when the oven chirped happily, the machine whirring to life.

Apparently the entire process of making and baking the cake was supposed to take no more than an hour, but just figuring out how to turn the oven on had taken him 20 minutes. _Zuko, you’re a failure. You’re just lucky you get until noon to finish the whole thing._

He checked the recipe. It turned out the next step was measuring and mixing the majority of the ingredients together, and oh yeah, Zuko could do that. Probably.

As long as he followed the instructions exactly, he told himself.

But of course even that couldn’t be easy because the cake gods couldn’t give him a fucking break. Of course not.

Of _course_ the bag of cocoa powder had to explode in his face when he opened it, and then he somehow managed to spill flour down the front of his shirt, and just—aRGH. How had he managed to fuck up measuring dry ingredients?

Eventually—miraculously—Zuko managed to get almost half of the required ingredients in the bowl with minimal damage—ignoring the cocoa powder and flour incident.

He was just reaching for the jar of sugar to pour out when—

 ** _~I’m so fancy/Can’t you taste the gold/Remember my name_** —

“Shit!” he yelped. His whole back vibrated unpleasantly, with that obnoxiously loud… thing, coming out of his back pocket. His hand knocked against something when he reached behind to get his phone and stop that godforsaken noise— “Azula?” He blinked, staring at the name on display, and frowning at the ringtone (Sokka must’ve put it as a joke, that fucker) before swiping to accept the call.

“Zuzu. You must be busy, no doubt.” Azula’s snark didn’t sound any better with the static turning her voice all nasally. Zuko bit back a groan as he held the phone to his ear, and returned to his bowl.

“Of course I am. And now I have to deal with you calling me.”

“You say the sweetest things. And surely I can get you away from whatever shitty thing you’re preparing for your birthday buttboy?”

Zuko clenched his jaw, but didn’t reply, concentrating instead on pouring the fine sugar from his measuring cup into the bowl, and adding the wet ingredients. His sister’s condescending drawl was a little inconvenient, but he managed to tune most of it out.

Mmm, the vanilla smelled nice. Time to get the mixer out and drown Azula out once and for all. He set it on medium, and got to work.

“Our dear uncle Iroh told me that—” _Whrrrrrrrr_ — “Zuzu. Zuzu, are you listening?! …HEY DUMBASS—” _WHRRRRRRRRrrrrrr_ —“What the fuck even. ZUKO!”  The mixer whined to a stop.

“Hmm.” The batter was thin, just as described, and he poured it into the pan with more than a little satisfaction.

“Stop that infernal noise and listen, for fuck’s sake. It’s a little more important than whatever poison you’re cooking up right now, okay?”

Zuko bristled, but managed to not snap. “Make it quick.”

He could almost hear her eyeroll, as she proceeded to launch into an explanation about… about… fuck. Zuko barely stopped himself from slamming the door on the oven.

“What do you mean, he _threatened?! That fucker!_ ” Azula laughed nastily on the other end, and Zuko felt like joining in because he wasn’t even surprised at this point. Zhao was an incredible pain in the ass, and sooner or later he’d pull this sort of shit. Not that he, personally, should care… but, he kind of did.

He sighed. “Why are you even—nevermind.” His relationship with his sister, and by extension their father, was… strained.

“Yeah, Zuzu, _nevermind_.”

Awkward pause, only interrupted by the soft whirring of the oven behind him. “SO, what are you making him?”

_Oh God, not the small talk._

“None of your business, and please Zula, small talk really isn’t your thing, so—”

“It’s probably something disgusting; Uncle had that soppy smiley face when he told me he’d let you off your shift—”

“Stilllll none of your business—”

The oven emitted an incredibly alarming popping sound, and Zuko froze.

“What was that?”

He whirled around, eyes widening at the mostly-baked-but-gooey cake spilling out the sides of the pan, and what in the fuck _ing FUCK?_!

He realized he’d said that last part out loud when Azula spoke again, “Wow, are you having some sort of a conniption, what the hell?”

He pulled open the oven door, putting his mittens on, and managed to salvage the cake. _Shit_. He hoped it tasted okay, and maybe Sokka wouldn’t mind if it was ugly. Maybe, maybe – urgh. _Go for it, Zuko._ He pulled off a mitt, scooped up some of the (admittedly nice-looking) chocolatey goop onto his finger, not caring that it was hot, and licked it.

Oh… GODS, _fucking_ _hell_. This tasted like. Like… like he’d mixed up the stupid goddamn sugar jar with the salt. Oh, fuck no. _How could anything possibly be such a colossal fuck up?_

He knew he should’ve just gone with something simple and _doable_.

“It’s… nothing.”

“You just fucked up whatever it was, didn’t you?” Her amused snort rankled, and wow, why was he still talking to her?

“I take back your already non-existent invitation to lunch, bye,” he spat, and cut the line in the middle of her indignant squawk. Not that it mattered; she’d turn up anyway.

The corners of his eyes prickled and his heart sat heavy in his chest. One thing he’d wanted to make by himself, for his boyfriend who was always taking care of him—well, in the culinary department—and he couldn’t even do that. It wasn’t an obligation, or about returning favors or such. Not like Sokka did anything as a favor in the first place. He’d wanted to… He’d imagined… Well, it didn’t matter now. He’d underestimated his ability to fuck up, and _that_ he just fucking paid for.

Waiting would be fresh hell. He probably should’ve started looking for alternatives, but he hadn’t thought of anything nearly as perfect, and he just wanted to wallow in his epic failure and… wait.

It was just shy of ten o’ clock, and with a sigh of resignation, Zuko set about cleaning the kitchen of all evidence.   
  


——

Cleaning up the evidence was harder than anticipated. It was nearly twelve by the time Zuko had scrubbed the entire counter and the insides of the oven (that one was a bitch), buried all of his flour and cocoa powder smeared clothes in the dirty laundry, and shit, Sokka would be home any minute now, and he hadn’t put the cake away yet.

Hmm. Not the trash, it’d start to smell, and the timing wasn’t opportune. He decided to stick it in the back of the fridge, and throw it out later. He’d just managed to cover it up in obscene amounts of foil and shove it behind some questionable things when he heard the locks click, and a loud cheery humming to accompany it.

“Honeyyyyyy, I’m hoooooooome!” Sokka’s voice boomed from the tiny hallway, and Zuko scrambled away from the fridge. His heart hammered.

_Act natural, Zuko. In the kitchen. Should be easy._

Sokka peeked in from the door, wide grin crinkling his eyes, looking every part the designated birthday boy. Zuko attempted to arrange his features into an answering smile.

“Helloooo” Sokka sang, seemingly in a very good mood, and Zuko fought not to let the guilt overtake him as he was swiftly hoisted up by the taller man, spun around in a circle and set upon the now-spotless kitchen counter.

“What, no kiss for the birthday boy?” He pouted, and Zuko felt his chest lightening as he laughed and obliged.

“So now it’s ‘birthday boy’ instead of ‘eh, it’s just the day I was born, big fucking deal’, is it?” he said, amused at Sokka’s dramatically cheerful behavior.

“Blasphemous words said when I, _the birthday boy_ , was going to work at _seven_ in the morning!” He pretended to look scandalized, then promptly dropped it for a playful grin. “Mmm, so where’s my present?”

_Shit shit shIT SHIT SHIT –_

“Aw, I was kidding, it’s okay if you –”

“NO IT’s fine! I mean. Sorry. Sorry, yeah, I… I couldn’t get you anything.” Zuko tried his hand at the patented Sokka Puppy Eyes Look, now feeling ridiculous on top of everything else.

Sokka, for his part, didn’t even look disappointed. But he was staring at Zuko as if he’d hit his head too hard. “You… okay? Look it’s not that big of a deal! If you really want to, then I guess you can treat me somewhere or – ooh! Ooh! You can treat me to that Jumbo TDK at the Fringamabobbob place.”

Zuko bit his lip.

“If you… want to. Dude, seriously, are you okay?”

_Why couldn’t he have ended up with some of Azula’s excellent lying abilities? UNfair._

“Okay, Zuko. What.”

“Nothing.” _I just baked you some sludge_ — “Why?”

“Did I ever tell you you’re a terrible liar?”

Zuko groaned. “What does that have to do with anything?!” He couldn’t let Sokka see. He _couldn't_.

He forced himself to meet Sokka’s gaze—which was narrowed considerably in this calculating look, and he knew he was truly and officially screwed. When Sokka got crafty, he got creative.

Zuko knew he was searching around for clues, and startled when he took an almighty huge sniff of his shoulder. “Oh my God, everything’s fine, will you stop?” He tried to muster up some irritation into those words, but his sister’s parting cackle resounded in his brain, reminding him how pathetic he was at this.

“Say, what is that smell?”

_FUUUUUCK._

“Smell, what smell?”

“It smells like,” Sokka swooped in at Zuko’s neck again, inhaling deeply, it would almost be arousing if he wasn’t so fucking terrified. “Like…” He suddenly grabbed Zuko’s hand and licked it.

“Jesus, Sokka.”

No, not even that was turning any part of him on. He fought to keep a neutral expression as Sokka determinedly sniffed some more. Now he was sure he was doing this just to be theatrical. Sokka had started grinning and yeah, Zuko might as well just give up.

“—chocolate!”

Sigh.

“Took you that long to figure it out, did it?” Zuko bristled, as he felt a blush warming his neck and creeping up steadily.

“Nah, you had some here.” His thumb brushed the corner of Zuko’s mouth, and dammit, he should’ve taken a goddamn shower too. _And fuck, no, that was NOT a cue to take his thumb into your mouth, control yourself!_

“Now,” Sokka, being his birthday-boy-dramatic-self, hopped onto the counter beside Zuko, “what could you possibly have been doing in the kitchen? And weren’t you supposed to be at work?” he added as an afterthought.

_One more minute, Zuko. One more minute yo_ _u get to continue your charade, to collect your pride._

“Either you were planning to lure me into kitchen sex with some kinky shenanigans with choc sauce, ooooooor you were… dare I say it—”

“Fine, FINE, I WAS _TRYING_ TO BAKE A CAKE FOR YOU,” Zuko half-yelled, half-squeaked, face heating up rapidly at Sokka’s earlier suggestion, and tried to put a firm stop to the thoughts that brought to his poor, panicky mind.

Sokka looked like his birthday was to be celebrated for the entire week.

“Wooow, really?”

“No, Sokka. I was actually planning to seduce you into having sex with me on this counter here—of course I was baking a cake, you idiot.”

“And… where is it..?”

Zuko tried not to squirm, or even worse, possibly cry. He took a deep breath. “Look it, it turned out… not so good, and I had to—ugh, I wanted to do something nice for you, I’m sorry.” Next thing he knew, he was being hugged, and Sokka was kissing the side of his head.

“Zuko, noooo, why would you – okay, look man, I don’t care if it looks bad or whatever, it’s your first attempt, and holy shit, you braved the kitchen for me. Honestly?” He squeezed him tighter. “I want to taste it. C’mon, tell me you didn’t actually throw it away.”

“I did.”

“Bullshit.”

 

Sokka narrowed his eyes, and they twinkled with mischief as he released Zuko, kissed his nose, and strode purposefully to the fridge.

_Crap._

There was nothing left to do—except beg. “C’mon Sokka you don’t wanna eat that, it’s disgusting…”

“Hey, it can’t be that bad, I know you can be very… precise and shit if you want to.”

Zuko groaned as Sokka let out a noise of triumph, and took out the foil-wrapped pan. “It is _exactly_ that bad—Sokka, I don’t want to give you food poisoning or something, okay? Put that back.”

“Aw, I _still_ can’t believe you _baked_ something for me, I mean. Tried, at least. You’re so amazing.”

“Sokkaaaa…” Whining wasn’t going to work, he knew it. (And although he was glad his sentiments were appreciated, he would be gladder if he actually had something to show for it.)

Sokka promptly plunged his fingers into the gooey mess, murmuring something about how “it looked delicious, anyway,” and sucked the chocolate off his fingers. Zuko clamped his jaw shut as his body tightened in entirely different places at the sight. _Wow, so not the correct time to—ugh. Stop it. Down._

Sokka hummed contemplatively around his fingers for a second ( _okay, calm DOWN, you’re not supposed to pay attention to that, sit quiet_ ) and then his expression immediately soured.

Zuko huffed. “I won’t say I told you so, but… I told you so.”

“Oh. Huh, oh my God. This tastes like…”

“Like we need to put the sugar and salt in different-looking jars? Yeah.”

Sokka grimaced. “…yeah.” 

Zuko tried his best to keep his expression neutral as the sense of failure washed over him again.

Obviously, as usual, Sokka was way too observant—and he immediately kissed away at the side of Zuko’s mouth. Zuko grumbled about not needing to be pacified like a little child, and Sokka laughed. “Nah, it’s only because I’m obligated to kiss you whenever you pout all cute and… pout-ey, like that.”

“I was not _pouting_.”

“You so were.” 

Zuko sighed. “So now, I don’t even have anything to give you, because I was so set on Plan A.”

“Well… you know, the birthday present I’d actually like, is now—” Sokka kissed his neck, “—all nice and smells of chocolate and other wonderful things.” Zuko shivered when Sokka pulled back to grin at him, all flashy teeth and feral, but promptly slapped his bicep for that horrid cliché.

“You did _not_ just.”

He was again, picked up and sat down, this time on the table. Sokka stepped between Zuko’s legs, which only fell open of their own accord and wrapped loosely around his hips to pull him closer. Next thing he knew, his back was against the hard surface of the table, and Sokka was kissing him something fierce.

Sokka pulled away after what felt like possibly the rest of the day—eyes wide and black, ringed with that icy blue—and panted out a laugh.

“I _so_ totally _did_ just.”

Weeeell, as far as consolation gifts went…

——

“Yeah, it was pretty good!” Sokka mumbled around a mouthful of rice, as Aang nodded beside him. “I was let off early, and I got my paycheck, so…” Zuko tuned out the rest of their conversation, and looked around at their lunch party that he and Sokka had been late for themselves.

The reasons for that were still gloriously fresh in his mind, and he smiled quietly to himself, even if Toph’s welcoming comment on that upon their hurried arrival had been a little unnecessary (“My, don’t you look all well-rested and fresh and not at all like you’ve just banged fifty times in a row?” Really, what an exaggeration, it was only five).

He avoided looking to the left, where he knew Toph and his sister, who usually couldn’t stand each other, were silently smirking at him now (he was not interested in being the sacrificial sheep to their newfound kinship or whatever, thank you) and chose to join in on Suki and Katara’s conversation. Something about orcas. Suki had initially wiggled an eyebrow at the scarf he was wearing, but overall it was safe and pleasant to talk to them.

And when it was time for the obligatory cake from the restaurant on the occasion of someone’s birthday—everybody clapped and sang in various levels of pitch (with Mai seeming to only mouth the words, and Toph and Teo beatboxing to it) and smeared icing all over Sokka’s resigned face. Azula whispered something to him while slowly tracing chocolate along his cheek, and Zuko had a very good guess about what, because Sokka spluttered, turning an impressive shade of magenta. Zuko wanted to glare daggers at her, but she’d already returned to her debate with Mai.

Then Sokka turned to him—looking quite ridiculous with a cherry stuck in the icing on his nose, and more of it clinging to his eyebrows—grabbed him, and didn’t quite kiss him so much as smush his face against his. Zuko was wholly unprepared, and he squawked in indignation as he felt his face become all sticky with half the toppings on Sokka’s face.

“Sharing is caring, Sparky!” he heard Toph cackle from somewhere, and Sokka waggled his crusty eyebrows in agreement as everyone whooped around them. Zuko felt his face pull into that apparent ‘pout,’ because Sokka laughed and kissed it.

He smirked, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I liked yours better, babe. Obviously.”

And Zuko promptly slopped more cake onto his face, grinning as he did so. “You’re helping me the next time, then.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> yes, Sokka put that ringtone for Azula as a joke. feel free to entertain yourselves imagining her reaction to finding that out :)))
> 
> kudos and comments are duly appreciated, very thank :*


End file.
